


A Normal Woman

by DoctorWhat



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Chameleon Arch (Doctor Who), Dark, F/M, Non-con in the way that our main character doesnt know who she really is, Secret Identity, Sex, Smut, Thoschei
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:00:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26179141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorWhat/pseuds/DoctorWhat
Summary: After discovering the truth of the Timeless Child and escaping from prison, the Doctor finds herself desperately wanting to forget it all.Landing in 1872, the Doctor uses the Chameleon Arch and the Tardis gets her a comfortable, human life in London. She goes by the name of Jane Smith. A fairly wealthy, unmarried, but respectable woman.The Master finds this ‘Jane Smith’ and isn’t quite sure what to do. He was looking for the Doctor, and this woman was clearly only a human echo of her. Should he release her Time Lord self from the fob-watch? Or should he take advantage of this situation?
Relationships: The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 54





	1. A Rather Quaint Dream

“Good morning, Miss Smith.”

Jane Smith groaned as her servant, Anne, opened the curtains. Blinding sunlight streamed into the room through the windows, and Jane squeezed her eyes tightly shut. “Come on, Miss Smith.” She said, heartily, with a smile, “You gave me strict instructions to make sure you were awake and dressed early this morning.”

“Did I?” She sighed.

“Yes, you did, Miss Smith.”

“Oh,” Jane said, in that instant remembering, “You know, I had a rather quaint dream last night.” She said, reminiscently, sitting up. Jane often had trouble sleeping - nightmares and strange dreams plaguing her. 

“Did you, Miss Smith?” She said, automatically. Anne would often have to listen to Jane’s dreams in the morning. She busied herself with some tidying whilst Jane spoke. 

“I dreamed it was the year two thousand, one hundred and twenty two.” She began,

Anne stopped what she was doing abruptly. But Jane Smith didn’t seem to notice.

“Such a strange world... An advanced civilisation, and yet, so very flawed. Machines - that work on something called... _ecleclicity_! These flying carriages, _aeroplanes_ , I believe, that can travel as fast as five hundred miles _per_ hour!”

“Five hundred miles per hour?” Anne asked, incredulously.

“Yes! I know!”

“And how do they work? Surely not horses?” She giggled.

“No, no,” Jane chuckled, “These incredibly powerful engines, that don’t run on steam or coal! They run on this oil, _kerosene_ , which has far more energy per litre than coal. It’s something called a Hydrocarbon.”

“A Hydro-what?”

“A _Hydrocarbon_.” She repeated, enthusiastically, “I think I made it up.”

“Well, you have _quite_ the imagination!” Anna said briskly, with a bright smile. “Should I run you a bath?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Anne hurried off, shutting the door behind her. A few minutes later, she carried a bathtub into the room and began filling it with hot water.

When the bath was ready, Jane slowly sank into it, her white nightgown floating around her in the water. She sighed as she entered, the water was pleasant.

Anne sat down on a stool nearby, mainly looking at her shoes. “Miss Smith, may I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

Anne hadn’t lived with Jane Smith for very long yet. Only a month now. From what Anne could tell, Jane was around thirty years old. It was rather odd that she had never married.

“You’re planning to get married,” She said, and paused. Jane didn’t respond immediately, and Anne quickly asked, “Aren’t you?”

“Oh.” Jane said, distantly, “I’d never really thought about it.”

Jane Smith didn’t see the look of confusion on Anne’s face.

Anne thought Jane was rather odd. But she did like her a lot. She was different to other women. Different to other people, in general. It seemed like Jane was a foreigner, despite the fact she spoke perfect English. She was terribly clueless on a lot of the basics, like she had been born and raised far away.

But, Anne knew that wasn’t the case. She was born in Yorkshire, and raised as a fine young woman. A normal woman.

_Just Jane Smith._


	2. I’m A Doctor

Anne would help her dress and get ready for the day. That could take several hours. An hour, if she was in a hurry. Like all women of 1872, she wore drawers, a chemise and stockings as underwear. Next, the corset. Jane Smith would often complain as Anne did up the corset. _‘How does one breath, or run in one of these things?’ She would always ask._

After the corset, next was the crinolette, which was a modern cross between a crioline and a bustle cage. The crinolette kept the skirts wide, whilst also emphasising and accentuating the bustle, which was extremely popular at this time...

_At this time? Jane Smith asked herself. What other time would there be?_

Then, several petticoats were worn over the top of the crinolette, and a camisole over the corset.

The skirt she was wearing today was silk, and a light olive green colour. Anne remarked that it suited her hair and eye colour. She also wore a bodice matching the colour and style of the skirt. Her blonde hair was styled into a neat braid, which had been knotted int a bun, for the upper half of hair, and loose, free, curled hair for the bottom half.

Jane observed herself in the full length mirror. She was slim, but not unhealthily thin, and had an hourglass figure.

“You look delightful, Miss Smith.”

Jane nodded at Anne in response and smiled. Today, she might paint a picture, or press some flowers. She would then have afternoon tea with some other lovely ladies, and a ball party in the evening that she had been invited to. This ball was hosted by a young Lord of the city, Richards, who apparently knew of her father.

Her father, had died a few years ago, as far as Jane could remember. He had left her with all of this money. As a lady, she wasn’t expected to work, only to find a upper class husband and serve them. Jane found the idea of this worrying.

But she couldn’t understand why she still hadn’t married. She was supposed to, and she was perfectly capable of it, so _why hadn’t she in all of this time? How old was she, anyway?_ She looked young in the mirror, but for some reason, Jane couldn’t quite remember her exact age.

“I think you caught Mr Richards’ eye.” Anne said, with a smug-looking smile.

“Anne!” Jane giggled, “You mustn’t speak of such things!”

“Well, that is why he’s inviting you to his party...” She said quietly, with a shrug, as she looked Jane up and down in the mirror.

“I’m only coming out of politeness.” Jane said, stiffly.

“If you say so.” She teased, smiling knowingly, “I just hope you’ll still keep me around, once you get swept away by him.”

“Don’t worry, Anne. I’m not getting swept away by anyone.” She said, firmly, with a small smile.

The afternoon tea had been rather dull, as usual. But pleasant nevertheless. The ladies spoke of their parties and dressmakers, tailors, hats and husbands. Oh, and of course, anything scandalous. Jane found herself gazing out of the window a lot, in between her sips of tea. She found it difficult to engage with the conversation fully, and vaguely wished she was somewhere else.

The time of the ball arrived swiftly, and Jane was actually looking forward to it. She was sure she had been to dinner parties before, but she just couldn’t remember which. Anyway, the thought of perhaps meeting some new people was exciting to her.

She arrived at the ball promptly, accompanied by her married lady friend, Catherine.

When she entered through the open doors into the large, ornately decorated marble hallway, a man immediately offered to take her coat and hat. She curtseyed gratefully, with her thanks, and Catherine led her over to some other ladies she knew.

“Hello all. _This is Jane_.” Catherine said, introducing her to the group.

“Hello, Miss Jane.” They all replied, smiling and bowing their head respectively.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all.” Jane replied, with a smile.

Later on, having spoken with the group of ladies, Jane spotted Mr Richards. She had seen him in a portrait, and somehow he was even more handsome in real life. Jane averted her eyes quickly, not meaning to seem impolite. But something about this man intrigued her... _It was as though he were blurry at the edges, like she couldn’t quite see him properly._ It was a pleasant feeling though, and Jane found herself feeling quite drawn towards him.

Mr Richards had been talking to some ladies, last time Jane had looked, and she was slightly startled to hear a small cough from just behind her. She turned, and another man, presumably a manager of the party, was introducing Mr Richards to her, “Miss Smith, this is _George Richards._ ”

“I am happy to make your acquaintance.” She said, politely, bowing her head slightly with a curtsey.

“Would you care to dance?” Mr Richards asked.

“Oh, um, yes, thank you.” She replied, quickly, but surprised. She could feel her cheeks burning up a little. Mr Richards offered his right arm, and she took it, gratefully.

He led her into the middle of the ballroom, and they began to dance to the light piano music. She had been taught how to dance when she was young, and was rather good at it. She was also taught the art of conversation making, which included listening silently and intently.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how has your evening been so far?” George Richards asked.

“Wonderful.” She said, “All I have met have been delightful, and the edibles are splendid.”

“I’m glad.” He said, cheerfully.

“May I ask you something, out of curiosity?”

“Of course.”

“What is your profession?”

“I’m a Doctor.” He replied, with a smile. Jane swallowed, feeling unusually familiar with this situation. She felt tense for a moment, but now, she found herself feeling more relaxed than ever before.

“That’s impressive.” She said, quietly. “So, do you enjoy your career?” She asked, forgetting to ask permission to question him, but Mr Richards didn’t seem to notice or mind at all.

“Mostly.” He replied, with a small shrug, “It can be tiresome. But I’m glad to help people.”

“Of course.” She nodded, ”Helping people must be satisfying. But hard work. It’s good that there are people like you out there, Doctors, who work for such good causes _.”_

“Indeed, why, thank you.” He said, “You are most _wise_ for someone so _beautiful_.”

A little sexist, but that didn’t matter. She had no idea where that thought came from. Sexism hardly even exist as a concept. I mean, sure, there were feminists out there. But they were pretty outlandish!

Jane suddenly became rather aware of his warm hand resting on her lower back. “I am flattered, thank you.” She said, coolly, despite her heart fluttering wildly.

The evening had ended nicely, thought Jane, as she lay in bed. As an unmarried woman, she had been escorted home by Catherine, after bidding goodnight to all she had met. George Richards had even kissed her hand.

Jane had always found the idea of marriage worrying. But somehow, that kiss from George’s lips had produced a comforting, warm feeling inside of her. Something she had never felt before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooh i wonder who Mr Richards is... ???! :O


	3. Not A Lady

Accompanied by Anne, Jane went for a short walk around the local park. Today, Jane was wearing a baby pink skirt and bodice. There were small white bows stitched onto the side of the skirt, and the end of the sleeves on the bodice were ruffled with intricate white lace.

It was a beautiful day. The sun was out today, but there was also a cool breeze in the air.

“How do you find working for me, Anne?” Jane asked abruptly, as they walked arm in arm.

“It’s... good.” She said, taken aback. “I have a roof over my head.”

“And that’s particularly - special?”

“Well... yes. I’m very grateful to work for you.”

“I’m grateful too. What I mean is, It pleases me to have someone like you around - to have _you_ around. I find myself feeling rather... lost, sometimes. You keep me grounded.”

“Oh, look.” Anna said, enthusiastically, looking into the distance, “It’s Mr George Richards.”

It most certainly was. He was sat on a bench, reading a book. And then he looked up, and in that moment they caught each other’s eyes. He stood up immediately, with a wave.

“Miss Jane Smith!” He called, beaming.

“Mr Richards.” They walked over to each other, meeting somewhere in the middle. Anne stayed behind, but was watching from a little distance.

“Now, come on, _Miss Jane Smith_. Lovely name, by the way. Let’s stop the _pretence_.” He uttered, seriously.

 _Pretence_? Jane froze, suddenly feeling as though she were under police interrogation. “Sorry, what?” She asked, slightly shakily.

“You are _far_ too intelligent to be a _lady_ attending afternoon _tea parties_.”

“Oh,” She chuckled, relaxing at once. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do.” He teased, with a smile, “You’re a _person_. Not a _lady_. You’re a woman. Just as a _man_ is called a _man_ , _you are a woman_.”

She stood still for a moment, contemplating what Mr Richards had just said. She knew she shouldn’t agree with him - she was just a lady, she should be just a lady. But somehow, she knew he was correct.

“ _I think so too._ ” She said, quietly, thoughtfully. They watched each other for seconds. “How do you-” She paused, swallowing nervously, as though a dark secret of hers had just been discovered, “How do you know this?”

“I know.”

“Right.” She replied, slowly. “And I think you’re... _different_.”

“Alright. That’s a new one. I will take it as a compliment,” he laughed.

“Oh, sorry. _Yes_! It was a compliment. It was meant to be a compliment.” She said, hastily.

“I know.” He said, smiling. She found herself smiling too.

“We should... talk sometime.”

“I’d like that.” He said. “But what about now?”

Jane turned around to glance at Anne. “Oh, I don’t know... My servant will have to stand there, I feel sorry for her.” She said, “I’m unmarried, you see.” She added.

Unmarried ladies would have to be accompanied by a married woman wherever they went. Especially in the presence of a man. Failure to do this could cause a scandal.

“Do you really think you need to play by the _rules_?” He said, with a smirk.

“Well, yes!” She said, indignantly, “I’d be cast out of society if I didn’t.”

“ _Not with me_.” He said, softly. “Come to my house. This evening. Let’s say, seven O’clock.”

“But what if someone sees me?”

“ _Don’t be seen._ ” He said, simply.


	4. Tea at Mr Richards’

At five minutes to seven in the evening, Jane put a long dark coat on. Anne was busying herself with some cleaning, and hopefully, Jane could get out of the house unnoticed. Jane didn’t have any family members to worry about finding out about this, as they were all dead. She only had Anne, and she trusted her to keep this confidential. She scribbled a note to leave by the front door, which read the following:

_**Anne. I’m going out for some time alone. Please don’t worry. I would prefer it if you did not tell anyone. I hope you understand.** _

_**\- Jane** _

Quietly, Jane wrapped a dark scarf around her hair, (she didn’t want to be recognised) then opened the front door. With a soft click, she shut it, and began walking down the dark street. It had been raining before, and the street was now wet and slippery with puddles.

Mr Richards’ house wasn’t too far away. He had given clear directions.

Seeing the house, she walked up the few stone steps, and knocked on the large door. Not too long after, the door opened, and there stood Mr Richards.

“Seven o’clock exactly.” He said, impressed. Jane looked around nervously, before casting her eyes back onto Mr Richards. “Don’t worry.” He said, “The servants have been dismissed. There’s no one around.”

Jane let out a small sigh, and then, Mr Richards invited her in with a gesture of his hand.

“Can I take your coat and scarf?” He asked, shutting the door behind them.

“Please, thank you.” She said, taking them off and placing them in his arms. He hung them up carefully.

“The door on your right, Miss Smith.”

She opened the door, and stepped into the living room. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

There were two large settees in front of a fire place. She sat down. “Would you like anything to drink or eat? Tea, lemonade... I believe we have root beer somewhere-”

“Tea would be fine - perfect, in fact. Thank you.”

With a small nod, he exited the room, and Jane was left alone to study her surroundings. The warmth emanating from the fireplace nearby made her feel rather cosy. She felt very relaxed. Strangely relaxed, considering she hadn’t met this man too long ago.

She had been very quick to trust him. But she wasn’t delusional of course, she understood the risks of meeting any stranger. Yet, she didn’t mind taking a risk. She enjoyed risk-taking. It was exciting. Something to distract herself from the everyday boredom of being a lady in 1872.

A few minutes later, George Richards entered with a tray of tea and Garibaldi biscuits. He placed them onto the side table separating the two settees. Then, sat down himself, beside Jane, but a good distance away out of politeness.

Jane took a biscuit, and bit into it.

“Mhm.” She murmured, “Very nice.” She said, after she had chewed and swallowed.

“I’m glad you like them.” He said, eyeing her contentedly. He then poured her a cup of tea.

“Thank you.” She said, taking the lovely hot tea into her hands, and taking a sip. There was a pause.

She hummed, putting down her cup of tea and wondering what to say. “Mr Richards,”

“You can call me George.”

“George.” She repeated, “Okay. You can call me Jane.”

“It’s a pleasure to have your company, Jane.”

“And I you.”

“So, Jane. Tell me about yourself.”

“Um, well, I was born in Yorkshire, 1842. I had... a brother, named, Braxiatel.” Jane paused, as in that instant, a smile played on his lips. “What?” She tittered.

“Oh, it’s nothing, sorry. I used to know someone who went by that name, is all.” He said, hastily.

“What were they like?” She grinned.

“Oh, I didn’t know them particularly well, you know. A friend of a friend sort of thing.” He said.

“But you smiled?”

Jane was clever, and not one to be quiet when she wanted to speak.

“Well, it just brought back some old memories. Sad memories, in a way, but.... happy.” He said, profoundly.

“I understand.” She said, feeling extremely intrigued now, but not wanting to dig any further that might seem impolite. What he had said had rang true with her too. She had lost her brother. Dead. Like the rest of her family. Like everyone she used to know growing up in fact, she noticed solemnly. How had she only just realised this properly? “My life makes... no sense.” She said, quietly, very abruptly for George.

“And is that a bad thing?” He asked, clearly not taken aback by her question at all. It was as though they had known each other their entire lives.

“Probably.” She replied, dismally.

“Do you want to know what I think?” He asked, slowly.

“Yes.” She said, quickly.

“I don’t think it’s bad.” He said, simply, “To me, your perception of everything makes for a far better life than any human I’ve ever met.”

“Are you trying to tell me you’re not... of this world? Not human?” She whispered, whimsically.

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

“Then, tell me, George Richards, if that even is your real name. Where are you from?” She asked, smirking.

There was a long pause whilst they both held their breath. “The north.” He said, gravely, and they both burst out into laughter. It wasn’t even that funny, Jane just found herself laughing. When the laughter died down, Jane took another sip of her tea. She then became aware of the distance between them, which had become considerably smaller within the last ten minutes. She wasn’t sure which one of them had shuffled closer.

Jane was beginning to feel tired. She wanted to rest her head - on his shoulder would be nice, since it was so close. But no, she couldn’t do that. They hardly knew each other!

”If you don’t mind me asking, Jane, you seem a little fatigued. Is everything alright? Are you well?”

“Oh, yes, everything’s fine. Great, in fact. I just don’t sleep well, is all. It’s nothing, though. Don’t worry.”   
  
“I’m sorry to hear that, Jane.”

Putting her tea down, she said, “I fear I must retire now.”

“Of course.” He said, standing up with her.

She smiled, and walked out of the room into the hallway to take her coat. Realising she was planning to leave, “It’s late! I have a room ready and waiting upstairs. Only for you. You can stay, if you want.”

“Are you sure?” She said, putting her coat back on the railings.

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

“Follow me, I’ll show you.” They walked up the stairs together, and George opened the door to a bedroom. “Here.”

“Thank you.” She said, again.

“Goodnight.”

“Night.” She replied, sitting down on the bed. With that, there was a soft click, and he had shut the door.


	5. Amorous Congress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry it’s been a while since an update on this story. I’ve been super focused on one of my others, ‘the year that never was’
> 
> Anyway, hope you like this one.

Jane awoke feeling... different. Freer, perhaps. She had broken the rules. She definitely should not have been waking up in another man’s home. It felt refreshing - breaking the rules. Like she was doing what she was made for. 

There were gorgeous rays of sunlight, coming from the French windows, which rested on the white, linen sheets that were wrapped around Jane. It was warm, and comfortable. She stretched her arms and legs, yawning quietly, before nuzzling back into the soft, plush pillows, and closing her eyes. 

It could have been hours, or minutes - Jane must have dozed off, when she heard a knock on the door. 

She sat up, made sure the sheets were covering her all the way to her chin. She was only wearing her chemise after all. “You can come in.” She said. 

It was George, of course. He was smiling, sweetly - apologetically. He looked a touch embarrassed.

“Sorry, Jane. I just wanted to check you were okay. It’s midday.” He explained. 

“Oh,” She didn’t think she had ever slept so well in her entire life. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to overstay my welcome.” 

“Oh, no, no.” He said, hastily, walking into the room and sitting down on the edge of the bed, “You haven’t. You can stay as long as you like - I’d love you to stay, o-or you know - whatever you want. I just wanted to check on you.” 

“I shouldn’t be here.” She said, with a meek smile, looking up at him from under her eyelashes. “I hardly even know you.” She said, teasingly. 

“Oh, come on! I know plenty about you.” He chuckled, “Born in Yorkshire, 1842. A brother - Braxiatel.” 

“I know that you’re not of this world.” Jane replied, “A strange, mysterious land, known as the North.” She laughed again at the repeated joke. 

“I know that you’re an incredible human being.” George said, smiling. 

Jane smiled as well. “I know... that you’re...” Well, he was intelligent, witty - attractive even, admittedly. But most of all, “- like me.” She finished.

“See? We know plenty about each other!” George continued. 

“I suppose so,” She beamed at him. 

Jane noticed his eyes glancing towards her lips as she smiled, resting there for a moment too long. Too long to be regarded as anything other than obvious interest.

“Thanks for letting me stay.” She was very grateful actually. She always had trouble sleeping - it had plagued her entire life. And yet, last night, staying here, had been strangely tranquil. Almost the moment she had shut her eyes, she had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

“It’s no problem.” He said, candidly. 

“I better be going soon.” She sighed, leaning back on the headboard. “I left my servant, Anne, a note. But I didn’t properly explain where I was going, or why. I don’t want her to worry.” 

When Jane finally arrived home at three in the afternoon, Anne was certainly worried. 

“You didn’t contact the police though, did you?” Jane asked, anxiously,

“Well, no. I respected your note.”

“Oh, good. Thank you.” Jane said. 

“I was going to call if you didn’t come back in the next hour though -“ She said, sternly. 

“No need.” Jane smiled, “I was perfectly safe. Just spent some time with Mr Richards. But don’t repeat that, please.”

“Mr Richards?” She asked, tensely, “But-“

“Yes, I know! It’s not the social norm, I get it. But it felt like it was really important to get to know him, you know. It felt like the right thing to do - he’s different.” 

There was a long, deafening silence, until, “You do know what men like him want, right?” Anne said, nervously. 

“He’s different.” She repeated, slightly more firmly. 

“You shouldn’t be meeting him alone. Especially now we know he thinks its acceptable to see you alone - you shouldn’t be seeing him all.”

“That’s ridiculous, Anne. Honestly, stop worrying -“

“He’ll want,” Anne paused, with a huff, “Amorous congress.” She said, in a comically ushered voice. 

“Anne, honestly. It’s fine.” 

He’ll take advantage of you. He’ll turn you into an outcast -“

“Anne, please stop talking.” She said, sharply, losing her patience all of a sudden. She had just raised her voice. That was weird, she had never raised her voice before, especially not at Anne. 

Anne looked hurt. There was a glisten of tears in her eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” Jane said, quickly. “I didn’t mean to shout.” 

“You don’t need to apologise, my lady.” She said, with a small, polite curtsy. “The fault is mine.”

“No, no. It isn’t, It’s mine. I am sorry. Please accept my apology, you have nothing to be sorry for.” 

“I accept your apology, my lady. Of course.” Anne said, quietly. 

Anne had left, with the excuse of having chores to do. But Jane had a feeling it was also to get away from her. It was fair enough, if she had. She had been completely impolite to Anne. 

Jane felt saddened by this. She had no idea why she had struck out at her friend. She had suddenly felt so angry, at the thought of Anne criticising George, telling Jane to get away from him. 

She could see now that Anne was being reasonable. It made sense to be cautious with such a stranger. But in that moment, it had been like a compulsion to attack Anne. Jane felt as though she had to stop Anne, in trying to keep her away from George. 

The last three hours were a little hazy. She remembered waking up, at around midday, and talking to George, eventually saying she had to leave. She must have been chatting away, as it was three o’clock now. 

It felt as though her mind was being gently pushed away from this trail of thought, and she was glad of it. She didn’t want to investigate it any further.

She remembered feeling so happy with George. She knew there was nothing to worry about. She had no idea how she knew, but she knew.

Even the thought of George was comforting. It gave her a lovely warm feeling, starting in her belly and eventually spreading all over her body. 

Jane was alone, laying on her bed. The thought of George laying with her, touching her, flashed into her mind. Staring at her bedroom door, which was currently shut, and listening out for Anne, she reached under the large layers of skirts she was wearing. Finding her drawers, she slipped her hand into them, finding the source of that heat - her ache. 

She sighed, as her finger trailed the length of her velvety slickness, eventually finding that small, swollen nub which made her keen and shudder. She had never touched herself before, and yet this felt so natural. 

About ten minutes later, she was breathing deeply, her entire body feeling relaxed and soothed. She had imagined George’s fingers, instead of her own, as she came. She had moaned and whined and sighed in ecstasy, having to hastily cover her mouth to dampen the sound. She certainly didn’t want Anne to hear. 

The thought of seeing George again excited her. She knew they were going to see each other again - no one could stop them, no one could keep them apart. She knew this.


	6. I Am The Master

Jane awoke feeling good. She had slept well, and she vaguely remembered having a rather pleasant dream involving George.

She was thinking about him a lot. In her sleep, it seemed, _and_ as soon as she woke up.

She had agreed to meet George again today, in the park. She would have to tell Anne, which she was dreading.

Without waiting for Anne to help, she got dressed and readied herself before making her way down stairs.

“You’re dressed?” Anne asked, “Sorry, I didn’t expect you to wake so early.”

“No need to apologise.” She said, with a broad smile, “I just wanted to do _something_ by myself.”

Jane sat down at the kitchen table for breakfast. Anne served eggs, bacon and bread, which was extremely delectable.

“Please, join me.” Jane said, with a small smile, gesturing to the seat opposite her.

Anne looked slightly taken aback, but sat down all the same. “Help yourself,” Jane said, passing her a plate.

Anne put a helping of eggs, bread and bacon onto her plate, before smiling back at Jane, “Thank you.”

“So, how are you, Anne?”

“I’m well, thank you.”

“I’m glad...” Jane replied, “I’ll be going out today, by the way. _Alone_. Just thought I’d let you know.”

“That’s fine, my lady.” Anne was clearly still nervous about last night. She didn’t dare ask why Jane was going out, or more specifically, who she was meeting. She didn’t even object about her going alone.

Jane prepared to meet George at around three O’clock that day.

So far she hadn’t seen anyone she knew, which was good, because she was unmarried and walking alone. It would not be good for her reputation. But, she was willing to take the risk, to be with him.

She arrived at the park, and made her way to the secluded place they had agreed to meet.

He was sitting on a bench, sheltered by bushes and trees around him. It looked like a very private place.

“ _George_.” She said, quickening her pace slightly to reach him. He stood up, politely.

As soon as she reached him, without thinking even thinking, on her tip toes, she reached up to plant a kiss on his cheek.

George bit his lip slightly for a moment, and Jane blushed, getting out of his personal space. “I’m _sorry_.” She said, quickly.

“No, no. I liked it.” He said, with a smirk.

“Oh.” She said, quietly, “ _Good_.” She added, more certainly, hiding the small, smug smile which was tugging on her own lips.

“Shall we sit?” He asked, and she nodded. He took her hand, most gently, and led her to the bench to sit with him. “Was your servant worried about you meeting me today?” He asked, conversationally.

“ _Anne_.” She corrected him, “No, well... I’m not sure, actually. She was quiet.”

“I wouldn’t fret about it.” He said, casually, with a flick of his wrist, “She’s only looking out for you. But she doesn’t need to, and _you don’t need to change_ your life to _suit her_ silly anxieties.” Jane noticed a slight, but unmistakable, irritation in his voice, but decided to ignore it.

“Right.”

“Anyway, how are you? How have you been sleeping?” He asked.

“I’ve been sleeping much better.” She replied, happily.

“Oh, that’s excellent news, Jane. I’m very pleased to hear it.” He said, smiling.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot.” She admitted, seriously, and he turned his head to look at her, curiously.

“Anything in particular? Should I be worried?”

“Oh, _positive things_. Don’t worry.” She said, with a wide grin.

Jane had no idea why so many of her private thoughts were tumbling out of her mouth. She supposed it just felt like the right time to say them.

“I _know_.” He said, smirking.

Jane’s eyes caught onto and then rested on George’s lips for way too long. He looked so... irresistible, when he smiled.

“Oh, cocky? Are we?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“ _Very_.” He said, “Plus, I can read your mind.” He said, with a shrug.

“You can?” She asked, sarcastically, “Okay. _Tell me_ , what am I thinking right now?” She said, still smiling at him.

“I think you’re bored of this _little life_. You need _more_. Excitement. Adventure.”

“Oh, really?”

“ _Mhm_.” He nodded. “I think you want... _this_ ,” He said, leaning in to rest a warm hand on her thigh. She could hardly feel it due to the many layers of skirts she was wearing, but all the same, it certainly made her heart beat faster. 

“And this,” he said, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand.

They were so close. _If anyone saw..._

Jane looked around nervously. They were definitely in a secluded area, but that didn’t mean no one would see.

“Uh, George-“

“ _Relax_.” And just like that, like magic, she felt her whole body ease. Her breath was no longer short and quick, but deep and slow.

“How did you-“

“I told you, I can read your mind. I can also do other things.”

Jane knew she should have felt worried about this. _How did he do this? It was completely inconceivable!_

But he had told her to relax, and now it seemed impossible to do anything else.

“Does this feel good?” He asked, moving in closer to nuzzle her neck. She felt his lips skim across her skin, softly, teasingly. She moaned quietly, hardly hearing herself. With no anxiety, all of that was replaced with lovely, deep arousal in the pit of her stomach.

“ _Yes_ ,” She breathed, moving closer, into his touch.

_These were not proper Victorian values, she thought. If Anne could see her! They shouldn’t be doing this in public... She shouldn’t be enjoying it as much as she is!_

“We don’t need to follow the rules.” He said, quietly, answering the thoughts in her head. “We can do whatever we like,”

“ _Yes._..” She agreed, compulsively.

His kisses moved across her neck, onto her chest, delicately savouring her collarbones.

“...Take _whatever_ we _want_.” He murmured, against her chest.

She stopped him, her lips meeting his, desperately wanting to feel him in her mouth. She sighed into the touch, happily. She could feel him smiling into the kiss. She smiled too.

They both drew away a little, to take a breather, lips still almost skimming each other’s.

“You make a _lovely_ little _human_.” He whispered.

“What do you mean?” She muttered.

“Oh, there’s _so much_ you don’t know.” He purred, blissfully.

“Then tell me.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, before standing up, abruptly, “Another time. Maybe. Maybe not.”

Jane was hurt too see him stand up so suddenly, away from her. One moment they had been intimate, the next, he felt so detached. But there were more important things to question...

“I don’t understand.” She said, looking up at him, her fingers trailing across the bruises that were now forming across her neck and chest, “You’re like the things I dream of... _impossible things_... _Who are you?”_

“My love,” He said, kneeling down to be at her level, face to face, “ _I am the Master.”_


	7. A New Universe

The effects of whatever the Master had done to her was beginning to fade away, as she walked into his house, his arm wrapped around her, leading her in.

Slowly, the anxiety seemed to creeping back into her system, the irresistible feeling of calm disappearing, the feeling she had felt ever since he had told her to relax.

When they reached the living room, feeling uncomfortable, she shrugged his arm off her waist, and sat down in an armchair, stiffly.

“So let me get this straight.” She sighed, and there was a long, horrible silence until she said, “You’re _impossible_ ,” with a light, short laugh.

“That’s right.” He said, taking his jacket off and sitting down on the settee opposite her.

“I knew you were different, but I... I didn’t think. Couldn’t _imagine_. Not like this.”

“Well, you could imagine. Your dreams, for instance.”

It was true. She had dreamed about impossible things, things the Master was capable of. She smiled a little awkwardly, staring at her feet.

Life was so much more than she ever thought. She was in shock right now. It could take her some time to adjust to this new perception of the world - _the universe._ But she knew, that this was the most incredible thing that had ever happened in her ordinary, dull, _human_ life.

That evening, she drank far too much wine, still trying to fully contemplate and accept what she had learned. As the night moved on, Jane had moved onto the settee with the Master, eventually snuggling up close to him, her arms wrapped around him, possessively.

Her head felt fuzzy, and her body felt lovely and warm.

She remembered the Master talking to her, stroking through her hair. She must have dozed off, because he woke her gently with a slightly firmer embrace.

“ _Hello there_ ,” He murmured, softly, his breath soft against her neck, “I think you fell asleep. I didn’t mean to wake you. I forget humans tire so easily.”

“Oh,” She replied, quietly, with a sleepy smile up at him.

“I was talking about _very interesting things_ , you know.” He smirked, “You missed a lot.”

“Ah well,” She exhaled, “You can tell me all about it tomorrow.” She paused, “ _Wait_ ,” She gasped, sitting up, “I haven’t told Anne where I am.”

“Not to worry. I sent her a message. Told one of the servants to deliver it to her a few hours ago.”

“ _Oh_ ,” She said, relaxing again, laying back down onto the Master’s lap.

“Would you like to go to sleep properly, in a bed? This looks a little uncomfortable.”

“Yes please.” She nodded, and just like that, he stood up, scooping her up with him. He carried her up the stairs easily. She was light anyway, and he also had superior strength to most humans.

He gently put her down onto the bed.

“I’m still wearing so much clothing,” She groaned, “And a _corset - God, no_ , I can’t sleep like this.” She sat up, and began to undo her laces. It was a little difficult, and she was already so tired...

“I can help.” He said, sitting down on the bed also, and beginning to do the job for her from behind.

“ _Thanks_.” She sighed, as she felt it loosen.

Together, they took off her many layers of clothing until she was only in her comfortable chemise. She immediately lay back down onto the bed, her head landing on the soft pillows.

She studied him closely, yearningly, as he took his shirt off and threw it over his head carelessly. All the while he was clearly distracted, staring hungrily at the sight of her, laid out in front of him, waiting on his bed for him.

He climbed into bed, slotting himself closely against her, putting an arm around her waist, securely.

_Chest to chest, she kissed him, before closing her eyes and softening even further into his touch..._


	8. Worth My Attention

Jane opened her eyes. _It was morning._

The Master’s eyes were still shut. She used this opportunity to stare at him, curiously, to study this impossible man.

She could see a soft smile creeping onto his face...

“You’re not actually asleep, are you?” She asked, sternly.

“No.” He said, opening his eyes, and allowing himself to grin fully at her, “I never sleep.” The Master had only pretended being asleep so he could listen to her thoughts as she watched him. “You do, though. I’ve been lying here for ages.” He moaned, “ _Ten hours!_ Watching you _snooze_.” He continued, faux-grumpily, a sense of humour in his voice.

“You don’t need to sleep at _all_?” She asked, shifting closer to him.

“I can, if I need to. Healing... resetting my brain - reordering it, configuring it. You know, things like that.”

“Right...” She said, unsurely. “So, Gallifrey,” She began, promptly, “Your home planet, if I remember correctly?”

He nodded.

“What are you doing here? In London?” She asked.

“I came for you.”

“Why?”

“You’re special.”

“How?”

There was a long pause, as the Master thought carefully about how to answer the question. He could always wipe her memory, if he said the wrong thing. But he wanted to avoid that - it made humans all fuzzy and annoying and confused for a while afterwards. Well, more so than usual.

“You’ve forgotten who you are.” He replied, softly, tracing his fingertips across her cheek,

“What do you mean?” She asked, tensely, brows furrowed. Perhaps she could sense the truth in this, from the way her life made little sense to her. She had told him this.

The Master couldn’t tell her the full truth. That Jane Smith was a lie - a story, a fake. That Jane Smith’s life, her purpose, was just to die. The Doctor would have to return some day.

If he were to tell her all of that, then this feeble, human impression would break straight away. He liked this human. He could have a lot of fun with her.

The Master would have to end Jane Smith eventually, and when he did, the Doctor would remember it all. The Doctor would remember, and she would hurt so much. Just the thought of that satisfying conclusion to Jane Smith made the Master shiver with delight. She was his weapon. With his manipulation, she had the potential to hurt the Doctor so much.

“What I mean is, you’re better than these people,” He said, with a light kiss to her forehead, “All of those humans out there... ready to die with no purpose. You’re better than them - far more important. You are worth my attention.”

Jane swallowed, feeling a little nervous by this sudden proclamation of his. It seemed like... he cared for her, in some way. But not in the kindhearted way she had imagined.

She turned onto her back, feeling tears prickling in her eyes. She tried to blink them away, to no avail.

“Why are you crying?” He asked, as though he found it completely bizarre. There was a hint of distaste in his voice, at the sight of a human crying.

“Doesn’t matter.” She mumbled, tiredly, turning onto her side facing away from him.

“If it matters to me then it does matter.” He said, firmly, almost like a command, wrapping an arm around her waist despite her clear desire to withdrawal from him.

“Is that all we are to you, us humans? Ready to die?” She sniffed. “I want to be more than that.”

“You are though... so much more,” He whispered, soothingly, pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck.

Oh, how typical... the Master thought. Just like the Doctor, Jane wasn’t satisfied with being ordinary. But, arbitrarily, neither Jane nor the Doctor actually were ordinary.“I told you... You’re special. You have my full attention.” He said.

She sighed, burying her face into the pillow.

“I’m tired.” She said, her voice muffled by the pillow. Maybe she just wanted to change the subject now... She didn’t think that any answer the Master could give her would make her happy.

“You can sleep longer, if you want.” He said, stroking her hair.

“Mmm, yes. I might do that. That sounds... nice.” She murmured, sleepily.

The Master watched as Jane was quiet and still for a little over half an hour, sleeping, before she woke up again.

“What time is it?” She asked, groggily, turning onto her side to face him.

“Quarter past nine.” He said, without even having to look at a watch. He had a perfect sense of time.

“I slept so well.” She said, affectionately, snuggling in closer to the comforting heat of his body, as though she knew he had something to do with it. She could sense it somehow.

He smiled. He had certainly been apart of getting Jane to sleep well. He had an influence over her mind: he could tamper with it, adjust it minutely. He was able to keep her nightmares away, make her happy and comfortable and sleep so deeply.

The Master’s fingers absently traced patterns and shapes across the thin, soft fabric of Jane’s chemise. Jane found herself waning him to touch her skin, and as though reading her mind, his hand slipped underneath it to rest on her thigh. She gasped, so softly, feeling heat growing in her tummy and between her legs.

His hand trailed a little closer to that heat, and he was looking at her, dead in the eye, with that look which could topple Gods and devastate armies. His eyes seemed depthless, like they could see right through her, right into her very being - her soul.

And he probably could, she thought, absent-mindedly.

The heat... Oh, but could he see that? ... Or feel that? Or however he was able to sense it in her mind? ... Smell it?

His fingers were in her folds now, feeling the wetness that had gathered there, ready for this. He kissed her, lazily, on the closest skin to his mouth - her shoulder. She felt him find her clit and begin to circle it with his digits.

This was so much better than her own fingers, she thought. To her slight embarrassment, she was very quickly moaning loudly, tilting her hips up - closer to his fingers, wanting more.

“So impatient.” He tutted, with a smirk, catching her lips on his mouth and muffling her sounds. She made a sound of frustration at his teasing. He broke away, to nibble and suckle on her neck, quickening the pace of his fingers. She was close.

Deciding he could add a bit more to this experience of hers, he began to transmit some particularly erotic images into her mind. Some were plucked out of her own mind, others were his own creation.

Him above her, pinning her down and pounding into her, her face flushed and sweaty - completely lustful, begging for more.

Her on top of him, him staring up at her, lewdly, her pale breasts jiggling as she rode him, panting and whining.

So many images... So many thoughts being pushed into her head. Her breathing quickened. Gasps and sobs.

She reached her peak, finally. She cried out when she came.

She then lay there, weakly, twitching occasionally, with delicious after shocks of remaining pleasure.

“How was that?” He uttered, placing kisses all the way from her jaw down to her neck and collarbones.

“Amazing.” She said, breathlessly, giggling at the slightly ticklish feeling of his stubble scratching against her skin.

She sighed, happily, kissing his chest before resting her head on it.


	9. Good Girl

“Want something to eat?” He murmured, after a few minutes of peaceful silence.

“ _Mmm_ ,” She hummed, “Yes, please.”

She ate breakfast quietly, watching the Master, her eyes meeting his a little too often.

He wasn’t eating, just watching her as well, hungrily, like she was enough of a meal in front of him. The thought made her tummy flutter, excitedly.

She finished, swallowing her last bit of egg and putting her knife and fork down. Making eye contact again, she smiled, playfully and tantalisingly. She was still thinking about the pleasure she had experienced this morning. She couldn’t look at him without smiling or giggling, imagining him touching her again.

“So, what are we going to do today?” She asked, heartily. She didn’t even think to ask as to whether it was okay to continue being his company for the day, she just assumed.

“Anything you want.” He said, smoothly, with a twitch of a smile and a small shrug.

She rested her chin in her hand, her elbow on the table supporting it. She took a few moments to think about what she wanted to say. “I don’t want... anyone to find out about us.” She said, quietly. “Apart from Anne, of course. I mean, she already knows. Nothing I can do about that.” She added.

He nodded, slowly, with a thoughtful look about him, before saying,

“I can make her forget about it, you know. Make her think nothing of your time away, if you want. She’d stop bothering you.”

Jane paused, her mouth open slightly. She was about to say, _‘No. Of course not!’_

But the idea was more tempting than she would like to have admitted...

“She wouldn’t _worry_ about me?” She asked, unsurely.

“Yes. She wouldn’t worry, _yes_.”

“And this... hypnotism? It wouldn’t effect her in any other way?”

“Well, there’d be missing parts in her memory... blank parts. “ He stated, casually, “But I’ll make her think nothing of it.”

Jane bit her lip, thoughtfully, wondering what to do.

Her tongue subconsciously flickered across her lips, wetting them. She noticed the Master’s gaze, shamelessly tracking this movement. She couldn’t help feeling pleased by this.

“But what if she actually sees us together? What will she think then?” She asked, breaking the tension-filled silence.

“Nothing of it.” He replied simply. “ _Literally_.”

“Okay...” She replied, slowly. “Alright, I think that maybe is a good idea... just so she doesn’t worry.” But really, she agreed to do it just so Anne would stop nagging her.

It was raining. The Master held an umbrella over the two of them, an arm wrapped around her waist, as they walked down the deserted, cobbled street together.

Reaching her front door, she pulled her key out of her pocket and fumbled slightly in the coldness, shivering slightly, as she unlocked and opened the front door.

Jane immediately froze. Anne was standing there, in the hallway, looking furious.

“I was given strict instructions to look after you.” She said, coldly, a sense of rage in her voice that could not be hidden.

Jane looked down at her feet, sadly and awkwardly. Jumping slightly, she felt the Master’s firm, (but not painful) comforting touch on her shoulder.

Clearly, he had been hidden from sight earlier, as Anne was now staring directly at him, her mouth slightly open, in complete shock.

“ _Mr Richards?_ What are _you_ doing _here_?”

“Is that any way to speak to a gentleman like myself?” He snapped. Jane was surprised by his anger, and found herself wanting to recoil from him. She didn’t though. She stuck her ground, feeling moderately uncomfortable with his grip on her shoulder.

“No, of course not. Sorry, my lord. Please forgive me.” She said, hastily, “I was just surprised by... _This_ ,” She said, gesturing towards the two of them, “This would _not_ be good for _either_ of your reputations.”

_‘Close the front door.’_

Wait. Did Jane hear that? Or did she think that? _George?_

_‘Yes, that’s right, it’s me. Close the door.’_

He repeated, straight into her mind. Jane stopped dead, staring at the Master, who was now smirking at her. He had somehow transmitted those words into her mind, without even opening his mouth.

“How did you do that?” She uttered, reverently.

_‘Oh, Jane. I can do anything. Surely, you must have realised this by now?’_

He replied, smugly.

Jane swallowed, before quietly stepping towards the front door and pushing it closed, still eyeing the Master.

_‘Good girl.’_

The use of those words struck an involuntary sense of pleasure inside of her. As though, pleasing him, was somehow the best thing to do. The thing she wanted most.

But she knew that _wasn’t her._ She never wanted to please anyone.

But somehow, spontaneously, she found herself smiling ever so slightly at him, unsurely. She knew she shouldn’t feel this way. She never would - this wasn’t natural.

But she _did feel that way_. And it felt good too, to give into it - _instinctual_. Like she was doing what she was _made_ for.

With the door closed, Jane watched as the Master stalked closer towards Anne. She definitely looked afraid now.

“Okay, _Anne_.” He said, with gritted teeth, as though the name was particularly hard to say whilst trying to suppress his rage. The thought of this little human getting in the way of him and Jane angered him. Anne was a pest, one that needed to be gotten rid of. “You’re not going to complain or worry yourself stupid about Jane anymore. My name is George. But you may call me Mr Richards. I’m extremely charming and handsome, and I am completely and utterly welcome in this home, any time I like. You’re not to question anything I do or say.”

Jane stared at him, completely transfixed, as he said all of this to Anne. Her servant no longer looked afraid, but slightly glazed over. Blank, but not unhappy. In fact, she looked happy to some mild extent.

Maybe it had actually worked? _He had actually hypnotised Anne._

Why was she surprised? After all the things she had discovered he could do... This wasn’t a big stretch. But nevertheless, it still shocked her deeply.

The Master turned back around to smile at Jane, with a flick of his wrist he said, “All done.”

“Would you like me to take your coat, Mr Richards?” Anne said, with a beaming smile. Jane was astounded, her eyes wide and staring at the two of them.

“Thank you.” He said, with a wink to Jane, before taking his coat off and putting it into Anne’s arms.

“ _Miss_?” Jane heard Anne say, far away,

“What?” Jane replied, in a bit of a daydream, still thinking about everything she had just seen.

“I asked, would you like me to take your coat, my lady?”

“Oh, right.” She said, taking it off. She hadn’t heard Anne saying that at all - she had been too distracted by her own thoughts. “Thank you.” She said, passing it to Anne. Anne curtseyed, in response, and Jane watched silently as she exited to hang their coats up.

Now only accompanied by the Master in the hallway, she found herself at a loss of what to say.

“Are you alright?” The Master asked, with a tilt of his head.

“Yes.” Jane replied, quietly.

“ _Good_.” He said, firmly, without a hint of worry or question in his voice.


	10. A Bit Of A Romance

Shutting herself in the bathroom, Jane let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding.

It was the evening now, and Jane had managed to get away from the Master by saying she needed to go to the bathroom. She just needed some time alone. _To think. Properly_.

She felt nauseas, and holding herself above the sink, she wondered if she was going to be sick. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the wall in front, and noticed she looked paler than usual.

Her world had changed so dramatically in the last day or so. Perhaps that was why she felt so trapped and vulnerable all of a sudden, like a wounded animal being cornered by its predator. That predator would be the Master.

But the Master had found Jane, and told her the truth. He had seen Jane for what she really was. A woman. A person. Not some lady looking for a husband, attending tea parties and keeping up her finest appearance. She wanted more from life than that. She wanted the strange and wonderful impossibilities that seemed to come with the Master. She wanted him, didn’t she?

Washing her hands with soap and water, then drying them, she padded up a flight of stairs into her bedroom. The Master was sitting there, on the bed, admiring a book in his hand, one that he must have taken off her bedside table.

“Jane Eyre.” She said, sitting down next to him.

“I noticed.” He said, softly. “Did you choose it, because of the name, or-?”

“Oh, no.” Jane said, quickly, “Well, I suppose that... made it appealing, as well. It covers women’s rights. Something most people think is ridiculous.” She said, with a chuckle, “It’s a good story, though. Yes...” She sighed, “ _A bit of a romance_.”

“Romance novels...” The Master muttered, darkly.

“Do you not like them?” Jane asked, the corners of her mouth quirking slightly, into a smile.

“No.” He said, putting the book back down onto the side table, “And I wouldn’t expect you to like them either.” He added, harshly.

“Why not?” She asked, curiously.

“I told you. I _know_ you. Better than you know yourself at the moment.”

Jane found this statement bewildering, but also got the impression he was irritated and didn’t wish to discuss it any further, so she kept quiet, for both of their sakes.

“You look pale.” He said, delicately lifting her chin up to see her properly, his thumb stroking across her soft skin.

“I feel a _little_ _sick_.” She said, shortly, now looking up into the Master’s eyes.

“Do you mind?” He asked, gesturing to take her hand. She nodded, and he took it, then rested two fingers on her wrist, looking for her pulse.

Her heart was beating steadily and fine. Heart, _singular_. Only one heart. It felt odd. Like some part of her was missing.

He released her wrist, not particularly wanting to listen to the human heart beat anymore. “Physically, you seem fine.”

“I forgot! You told me you were a doctor. So, are you, actually?” She paused, “Or was that another lie?”

“That _was_ a lie.” He admitted, with a dark grin.

She sighed, flopping down onto the bed she had been sitting on. “That’s a shame.” She said, “I’ve been looking for a Doctor.”

“Why?” He asked, trying to sound casual, his mouth actually turning a little dry in spite of himself. He needed to find that damned fob-watch of hers.

“I don’t know.” She stopped, to look at him, and burst out into laughter, “I’m not ill or anything! Theres no need to look so _nervous_!” She giggled, “I’m just interested in that profession. _I mean_ , anyone would be. It’s fascinating. The new science being discovered everyday is just incredible. Don’t you think?”

He hummed in agreement, with a humble-looking smile, quickly readjusting himself to seem relaxed instead of anxious.

“Although, I suppose, considering you managed to travel from your planet to this one, your science must be far more advanced than ours.”

“Oh, yes.” He grinned.

“How did you get here then?” She asked, excitedly, her teeth biting her bottom lip.

“A machine called a Tardis.”

“A Tardis...” She repeated, trying out the word on her tongue. He nodded. “How does it work?” She asked, quickly.

“Oh, I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.” He said, with a mischievous smile, turning his head to pop a kiss on her nose, “I’d have to kill you. Because otherwise, It would disrupt the whole of time and space.” He laughed. “Not that your silly, little _human_ mind would understand, anyway.” He added, sharply.

Jane was taken aback by this. His mood seemed to chop and change a lot. But Jane was satisfied now. She had figured it out. This was all a complete façade, designed to manipulate her, perfectly. She was impressed. Her sickness had gone. She now understood him.

Jane sat up, abruptly,

“I’m not stupid, you know.”

“You’re human.” He said, flippantly. “Basically the _definition_ of _stupid_.”

“You’re not a good person.” She said, ignoring him. “ _You’re bad_. I could smell it on you since the day I first met you.”

The Master was surprised. He hadn’t expected her to be so bold, nor to have really caught onto this.

“Am I?”

“You’re more than that. You’re a genius.” She said, with a smile just like his. “And I think I’m starting to understand you.”

Now... the Master had not expected that.

“Are you afraid of me then?” He asked.

“I _should_ be. And you know this, of course.” She said, with a light laugh. Her brows furrowed slightly, as she considered, “I _am_ a little afraid.” She admitted, casually, as though they were chatting over afternoon tea, “But my curiosity gets the best of me. And I think I like you.” She added, smirking.

“You like me?” He chuckled, “Oh, Jane... You should run. _Away_ from me. As _fast_ as you can.” He said, gleefully.

“I know.” She said, softly. She swallowed, and paused, thoughtfully. “I think I’ve always been attracted to danger. Darkness.” She said, licking her lips, tentatively. The distance between them had closed in a lot. They were both sitting on the bed, only inches apart, and wanting to inch in further. “Or maybe... _Its just always been attracted to me._ ” She said, staring at his mouth, brazenly. _Oh_ , how she _wanted_ to feel that on her skin again.

The Master titled his head, a smile on his lips and an inquisitive nature about him, “You’re not an ordinary human, are you?” He said, taking her by the chin to study her. His eyes were darting across her face, analysing her, processing her at a million miles per hour. She didn’t feel at all uncomfortable by this. She felt excited. Her heart was beating so much faster, and oh how she loved the thrill of it.

“What do you want from me?” She said, softly.

“Oh Jane...” He said, stroking her cheek, “I want everything. All of you, all of it, completely _mine_.”

Her breathing had quickened. She was acutely aware of the predatory smile on his lips. Her eyes kept flashing down to it, wanting to see more of that delicious grin, wanting to savour it, permanently save it to her memory.

She hummed happily, smiling too, as she climbed onto his lap. Her lips grazed against his.

Her mouth moved closer to his ear, “I _am_ _yours_ ,” she whispered into it.

“My best pets are always the ones who are willing.” He said, sounding pleased with her.

“And I am going to be your _favourite_.” She purred.

Grinning, he kissed her, deeply, holding tightly onto her corseted waist. She kissed him back, eagerly, her tongue seeking his.

He soon released her and pulled away, allowing her to breathe. She was panting, quietly, staring at him with big, dark, lustful eyes.

“Can you-?” She turned her back to him, tugging on her bodice.

“It would be my pleasure.” He said, his grin audible, as he began to take off her clothing. As he did so, he touched her in ways that made her heart flutter delightfully, ever so slightly. She felt his lips, carefully placing kisses down the back of her neck, in a way that made her shiver with anticipation.

Jane stood up, to remove her crinolette, petticoats, stocking and drawers, slowly and teasingly, enjoying the way the Master’s eyes flickered across her form, hungrily.

She smiled, climbing back onto his lap, now stripped of all clothing other than her cotton chemise. She pushed him onto his back, roughly and kissed him ravenously - her teeth nipping him lightly, more often than not. Now on his back, she could sit on his thighs.

His hands reached for her chemise, pulling it up and off over her head, flinging it carelessly across the room. She was completely bare to him now.

She stopped the kissing to show herself off to him. Her hands stroked leisurely up her body, from her calves to her neck, resting on her breasts for a moment to squeeze them, all the while maintaining intense, unrelenting eye contact with him.

Her fingers sought out her throbbing heat, brushing against her swollen nub and moaning, loudly, enjoying his attention on her.

Taken by surprise, she giggled as she was swiftly flipped onto her back, the Master now on top of her.

“No, no, no.” He tutted, grabbing her wrist as she tried to touch herself again, “You don’t get to do that anymore. You leave that to me.”

She felt herself being compelled to say, “ _Yes, Master_.” The words tumbled out of her mouth immediately - she knew she didn’t have a choice. She couldn’t think otherwise, the Master had made it so with that exciting power of his.

Her hands were pinned to the mattress above her head. She wriggled a little, pressing her thighs together, anxiously trying to satisfy some of the arousal between her legs. She whined, quietly, not managing to get what she needed. He kissed her, roughly, silencing her complaint, her sounds muffled by his lips.

“You’re so _primal_ as a human.” He admired her from above, breaking the kiss, “So _animalistic_.” He added, taking her breast with his mouth, sucking and nibbling on her nipple until she was keening again. “Do you want this?” He asked, a sardonic smile playing on his lips, as he reached in between her legs and slipped a finger through her wet folds.

“Oh, God, yes.” She replied, breathlessly.

“ _What do you say?_ ”

“Please, Master. Just _fuck_ me already!” She groaned.

“Since you asked so nicely,” He said, smirking, before he moved his mouth down onto her vulva. Her legs shook, almost violently, shocked by the sensation of it. Gasping, she grabbed onto his hair and pulled him in closer, encouraging him.

She came, throwing her head back and crying with euphoria. Her legs were still trembling, and her entire body felt heavy and exhausted. She shut her eyes, just basking in the remaining pleasure of it all.

She hardly noticed when he rolled her onto her front. He thrusted himself into her, and she cried. She felt herself being stretched, a little painfully, but it was numbed by her arousal and post-orgasmic bliss. He began pumping into her, and she was soon moaning into her pillow, lazily. She was making so much noise. But she was far too out of it to feel self conscious.

She could just about make out his fingers grasping onto her behind, his nails digging into her skin slightly, as he shoved himself into her, faster and harder. She felt a warm liquid trickling down her leg. She could hear him grunting with each thrust.

She orgasmed, almost sobbing. There were white spots in her vision and the pleasure seemed to be everywhere. She must have lost track of time, blacked out maybe. She opened her eyes and he was laying on his side next her, watching her intently. She smiled at this and sighed, rolling onto her back. She was completely naked, and feeling chilly now, she pulled the duvet up to cover herself.

She looked at him. Somehow he was completely clothed. She turned onto her side, facing him, and reached out to fiddle with the buttons of his shirt, before slowly undoing them. He did the last bit of work, pulling it off himself and throwing it across the room.

She felt across his chest, her fingers absently tracing the indentations of his muscles.

“That was...” She said, breathily, “ _Incredible_.”


	11. Eleven

Jane awoke with a grin, her head comfortably resting on the Master’s warm chest. She looked up at him, to see he was wide awake, and watching her with a soft smile on his lips. She then nuzzled in closer, wanting to feel their bare bodies touch each other more. Her leg wrapped around his, and she kissed the closest available skin to her mouth, before nipping it, playfully, and looking up at him once again. Her mouth magnetically met his for a long, heavy kiss, and she hummed happily into it.

“What time is it?” She asked, as they finally pulled apart.

“Eleven.”

“Oh, gosh. I should get dressed.” She said, sitting up to get out of bed. She was just about to stand when the Master pulled her roughly back under the sheets and kissed her.

“I think you should stay _here_.” He said, silkily, grabbing her breasts and squeezing them.

She gasped, quietly, her head lolling back onto the pillow.

It wasn’t that the Master found her attractive, (he knew she was visually appealing though, of course). But he knew how to manipulate a human’s body. He knew how to _pleasure_ Jane.

The only part of this human that he found remotely attractive was its link to the Doctor, and how the Doctor would remember these senses when she came back to herself.

The Master had no sexual desire, apart from for his own species, another Time Lord like the Doctor. The only reason he would ever enjoy sleeping with a human was simply to abuse them, and control them. He found that sexy, not the human them self, but exploiting them, controlling them - especially the visually pleasing ones. Like Lucy. Lucy Saxon. She had been so inviting. _The thought of fucking her, on her knees bent over, whilst the Doctor watched, was enough to make him hard. He had done that a few times on the Valiant, actually, come to think of it._

“I _like_ these.” He whispered, his voice low and gravelly as he took one of her breasts in his mouth. She moaned feebly in response, her hands grasping onto his shoulder, fingernails digging into his skin. “I need to get on with some things, for a bit, on my own.” He said, calmly, his hand stroking her smooth back.

“What do you need to do?”

“Nothing that you need concern yourself with.” He replied, a little coldly.

“I see.” She replied, quietly.

“I need to put you to sleep now, whilst I do what I need to do.”

“Put me to sleep?” She asked, her brows furrowed.

“Yes. Anything you’d like to dream about in particular?”

“Oh.” She smiled, “You?”

“I can do that.” He said, smirking.

“I want something nice with you... Somewhere far away from here...” She whispered.

He nodded, “ _Sweet dreams_ ,” and placed a gentle hand on her temple. Her eyes immediately fluttered close, her body going limp, relaxing completely.

The Master stared at her for a moment, transfixed. She was very beautiful.

He blinked, looking away, confused as to why he found himself so captivated by her for a second. She was only human.

The Master removed her arm, which was resting across his chest, and got out of bed.

He needed her asleep for a bit, at least until he found that damned pocket watch of hers. He would have asked where it was, but that would have only drawn her subconscious closer towards it, and he wanted that watch as far away from her as possible, physically and mentally.

He would just have to find it. It wouldn’t take long, hopefully. She most likely kept it quite close to her, probably in her bedroom. He stood up, to begin rummaging through her drawers.

There were books, various items of clothing, and other useless objects, all in a disarray - not in any sense of organisation. So typical, he thought. He found a wooden yo-yo, and giggled, before chucking it carelessly back into the drawer.

On the third drawer, he found it. The golden pocket watch, disguising her true identity. The Doctor was trapped, right here, in his hands. Completely at his mercy.

He gripped it tightly for a moment, pondering on whether he could crush the Doctor’s soul this second, just like this.

He smiled, flipping it in his hand to look at the carefully engraved Gallifreyan.

He chuckled, at the thought of owning the Doctor like this, as he pocketed it.

He would hide the watch in his Tardis now, safely away from little Jane Smith.

**Author's Note:**

> hiya! more chapters coming soon :)


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